Discombobulate A Collection of Short Stories
by Hypsidium
Summary: A collection of short stories based on one-word prompts, songs, and etc. Various pairings and topics.
1. Author's Note

A note from the author:

I have been a fan of Ghostbusters since I was very young, and have written other fiction based on it that will likely never find its way out of the dark hole I stuffed it into equally as long ago. They were terrible, but I learned from it and hopefully my writing has improved somewhat.

So, in advance I would like to thank you for reading my short stories. I hope you enjoy them!


	2. Bound

Egon sighed and swiped a bared arm across his forehead, removing his glasses to get at the sweat threatening to enter his eyes. The basement was becoming quickly hot and their work was delicate and tedious.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ray asked for the fifth time, concern evident in his brown eyes.

"Yes." It was a simple answer, he had already explained himself and felt no need to retread that ground. "Where's Slimer?"

"I gave him a few pizzas and told him if he ate slow I'd tell him where the cookies were...He'll be preoccupied in the kitchen for a little while."

"Good. This hinges on his involvement."

"Yeah, I know." Ray scrubbed a chalky hand against the back of his neck, staring down at the floor. "Are you sure?"

"Raymond." Egon closed his eyes, tapping his own stick of chalk to his temple. "If I was not sure I would have never asked you to come assist."

"Yeah, but...I just don't feel right about this."

Egon just sighed, getting up from his crouch and ignoring the aches that accompanied it. He walked over, careful not to disturb the lines tracing the floor, the candles resting at the Cardinal directions and the smaller candles representative of the elements. "Assist me, please."

He removed his shirt, glancing in the mirror briefly and running a hand through his hair - out of the usual style and draping around his face annoyingly. No hair products today, nothing but plain unscented soap. He carefully wiped away the chalk smudges on his palms and temple; it wouldn't do to have any contaminants.

Ray made a soft sound of protest, but helped anyway; he knew what had to be done.

Egon stood very still as Ray traced the patterns of Chakra across his chest and back. He painted over the pants Egon was wearing - plain cotton, undyed, no synthetics. With nothing left to do, he stepped into the center of the circle while Ray called Slimer down.

Egon made a silent vow never to experiment on the spud again after this. The latent energy from his occult summoning would be integral in this, and for that alone he felt there could be nothing more he would ever be able to really deny the glob of goo.

Slimer hovered over him as told, looking confused.

Ray swallowed and lifted the spell book, holding up a long match. "You were born in Winter?"

"Autumn."

"Alright, face West then, the white candle."

Egon complied, aligning his body exactly with the lines. He placed his hands over his heart, closed his eyes and waited while Ray began a steady chant behind him. It was then he found that having yourself spiritually bound to a location was exceptionally painful.

It was worth it to know that well after their deaths everything would be taken care of.


	3. Quiet and Still

Morning crept up as quiet as a cat, casting the kitchen in a hue of pink and gold. Her hands moved automatically, shedding her thick wool coat on a chair in the dining area and preparing the pot for its life giving nectar. Outside the wind howled, inside the coffee percolated.

"Morning," mumbled the proprietor as he shambled in, attracted by the alluring scent of caffeinated goodness. He poured a cup for her and for himself (and promptly ruined his with an excessive amount of cream and sugar), then took them to the table where he spent several moments just staring at it while it cooled. There were bags under his eyes.

She settled across from him, adding her own, far more reasonable, dab of cream. "Late night?"

"Mm." He muttered something about some invention or another that just would not work as it was meant to on paper.

"You'll figure it out." She blew on her coffee and took a drink.

They sat in companionable silence until she finished her coffee and went downstairs to take the phones off of night. For thirty minutes each morning it would be this way; still and peaceful, lacking in the usual chaos and destruction and distraction. Just still.

In those quiet moments he belonged to her and no one else.


	4. Drive It Like You Stole It

The car rumbles along the country road, crumbled asphalt rattling under the tires. He flexes his hands on the steering wheel, watching the scenery go by. His errand - a cooler of some kind of vile smelling ectoplasm - is securely buckled into the back seat. Apparently it has been oozing out of the township's little public library. He had been the only one available on a slow Monday afternoon, so he had been sent out to retrieve a sample so that when the teams appointment with the township came up they would have more data to go on. At least he's getting paid for the time.

He looks out across the mowed fields, no city nor soul in sight. He directs his attention down at the speedometer.

50 miles per hour.

He pushes the old vehicle a little faster, knowing it can handle it from experience and the fact he had just given it a tune up before leaving. He knows that _he_ could handle it.

60 miles per hour.

The car growls in approval. The road whips past and he knows he can avoid all the jostling potholes no problem.

70 miles per hour.

The wind whistles past the equipment on the roof in a shriek of joy. He cherishes this momentary lapse in law abiding, knowing that the opportunity may never come again.

80 miles per hour.

And for several wonderful minutes Roland and Ecto just fly, machine and man in perfect harmony.

youtube . com / watch?NR=1&v=kON_KRmFRKk


	5. Dark

Not a prompt fill technically, but a short little something. Just a bit of an observation I made and tried to tie into my other headcanon.

* * *

><p>"You know, I don't remember your eyes being so dark when we were younger."<p>

The comment drifted out of the still air, interrupting the comfortable quiet. Her head rested against his shoulder and he couldn't see her expression, but her voice indicated a mild amount of puzzlement. She turned a page in her book.

He squeezed her arm lightly, formulating a reasonably plausible reply. "Eye color can change in around 10 to 15 percent of the Caucasian population, particularly with light colored eyes, as pigment deposits may change..." he let himself ramble onwards, offering up Occam's Razor.

He couldn't bring himself to let her know that while his heart belonged to her his soul belonged to a dilapidated firehouse.

And that one day he would leave her again.


	6. More Than Fine

Eduardo did not consider himself a clever man or a skilled man. What he did consider himself was a man who could get by okay, if only by the skin of his teeth. Sometimes it just wasn't enough though and he felt himself wanting so much more out of life.

He could cook a pizza just fine, he could dance a little, he could shoot a spook better than Roland, he could play cards pretty good, and he could maintain an apartment on a shoestring thin budget. He could pass his classes reasonably well for his partial scholarship.

He couldn't cook almost anything else, he had an awful singing voice, he was often clumsy, he lost at chess to Slimer of all things, and he often found himself struggling at the end of every month to pay for all the extra things. Having the extra job meant that he was dog tired all the time and slept in on some of his lectures.

Worst of all, there was _this __girl_ at work. Not just any girl, but _this __girl_. Every day he felt the urge to ask her out - dinner, a movie, a dance club, the library even. Anything, anywhere, so long as he could spend time with her. Eduardo considered himself okay with the ladies, and he could think of entertaining things to do that wouldn't break his budget right in half.

The problem was, for _this __girl_, he knew that he had to more than just okay.

* * *

><p><span>youtube<span>.com/watch?vkTxLBfU_cAU


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